The Slytherin Half: Aftermath
by WeatherWatch
Summary: Companion to 'The Slytherin Half'. Life for Hermione and Blaise  and their family  in the post-Voldemort world.
1. The Wedding

**Companion piece to THE SLYTHERIN HALF.**

**Disclaimer:**** Not mine, except the concept of The Slytherin Half (which this is an addition to)…**

**Weddings**

The month and half since Harry's victory over Voldemort had passed relatively quickly, and Hermione had been surprised when Blaise proposed (at his mother's not so innocent suggestion) in front of practically the entire of Wizarding Britain – not to mention press from every magical community in Europe - during the Order of Merlin, First Class ceremony, garnering them almost an insufferable amount of attention every time they chose to go on an outing.

The stoic resolve of Hermione Nott a.k.a Granger was slowly worn down, and she soon took Blaise up on his offer for her to move into his mother's main house, where the two women could bond and plan the wedding, giving Hermione a chaperone to dissuade any scandalous suggestions (Hermione thought this point was a little invalid – after all, she was already pregnant with his children, she had scoffed one morning, how much more scandalous could it get?).

The house, while not as ostentatious as Malfoy Manor or Parkinson Hall, was delightful in its traditional design and large enough to ensure one's privacy. Hermione was quite fond of the place, really, although she had gotten into a rather high-spirited argument with Anatalia Zabini regarding the use of House Elves. A compromise – of sorts – was eventually reached, with both women choosing to ignore the issue for the moment and focussing on the wedding plans as the date drew closer.

Currently, Hermione was perusing a magazine in a manner so unlike herself she had almost laughed aloud. It was a dress magazine from one of Anatalia's favourite magical designers, and the clothing was undeniably classy and stunning. The young witch glossed over several pages, but her casual perusal was brought to a stop when she found It.

The Dress.

The Dress that called to her from the glossy magazine pages, willing her to try It on for size, to see how beautiful It would undoubtedly make her on that special day.

Anatalia seemed to notice the lack of turning pages, because the notorious man-eater suddenly flew to Hermione's side and gushed over the flowing gown.

Hermione had argued vehemently that she would not be wearing a white dress, nor dress robes, regardless of what the hobnobs of high society would say about her later on, whether it be behind her back or to her face.

Green, she had stated. She would wear green, as her nymph heritage desired. It had been one of the rare times when Anatalia's will had crumbled.

The dress that the two women were currently ogling was a pale green gown that appeared to shimmer attractively no matter the lighting. It had a delicate, white lace back, and a slit down the left side that began dangerously close to the hip. Hermione was instantly enamoured of it, and the elder Zabini woman was also sufficiently impressed with Hermione's chosen wedding dress.

"Excellent choice, my dear. Although, I do wish you'd agreed to wear white…"She trailed off forlornly, and Hermione sighed, pointing to the white lace.

"There's white on this, it's not a completely blasphemous."

She shared a rather odd relationship with her mother-in-law to be; they were both very beautiful and adored Blaise more than anything in the world, but their strong wills often resulted in highly intelligent verbal conflicts that seemed to develop at freakish speeds until a neutral party reluctantly intervened. Afterwards, the conflict would be put behind them and it wasn't unusual to see them both together taking tea not fifteen minutes after one of their 'sessions', as Blaise liked referring to the spats.

"I think we might call Genevieve for a fitting. This afternoon, I think." Anatalia said, summoning a house elf. She raised a questioning eyebrow, checking with Hermione, who nodded her consent, before sending the house elf to the dress shop with their request. The older woman strategically ignored the displeased expression that flashed upon the girl's face at the crack of the elf's arrival.

"Oh, Theo and Blaise are visiting sometime this afternoon, but that shouldn't be a problem. We can shoo them out while the dress is being shown." Hermione added, remembering the information she had been told the day before.

"Yes, of course. I haven't seen your charming brother in weeks." She smiled, pleasantly and turned to Moxy, the elf that had just returned from its mission.

"Madam says she be arriving at half four, Mistress." The little thing squeaked before bowing as it exited, a loud pop reverberating through the sitting room.

Hermione continued after the creature left.

"Unfortunately, he won't be staying for long; he's having dinner with Lavender's family."

She smirked at the thought. The Brown's were quite the rambunctious Gryffindors, with a Hufflepuff or two thrown in for good measure. His Slytherin instincts would feel suffocated, she was sure.

Checking the clock about the fireplace – three fifty seven – Hermione allowed Anatalia to vanish the other items, leaving just the dress magazine, and called for tea to be sent while they waited.

**

Hermione stood upon a small stool while Genevieve directed magical measuring tools over her body. The pregnancy was barely showing, and wouldn't be noticed much even on the wedding day, so they were all hoping there wouldn't need to be changes made to the gown at a later date.

"Here, Miss Nott, step into the dress." The older woman said. Hermione complied, aware that when working with clothes makers, there was no questioning them when asked to take off or put on clothing.

The smooth texture of the dress allowed it to slide delicately over her skin, and Hermione could have sighed along with the silken fabric. It was glorious.

With magic, the adjustments were fairly simple however they were only just beginning when a house elf arrived to tell them that the boys were waiting in the hall.

Hermione released an improper squeal, and forbade Blaise from coming in (although she gave her brother permission, much to the former's chagrin). He resigned himself to wait until they were finished and conjured a chair.

"Well, sister-dear, you look simply stunning." Theo complimented her. "One's hardly able to tell that this is a shotgun wedding."

He smirked as her pleased smile turned into a glare.

"It's not a shotgun wedding." She hissed at the tall Slytherin, sniffing at him and turning away importantly.

"I kid, Hermione." His smirk became a smile and he greeted Anatalia and Genevieve politely.

Taking a seat, he smoothed his collar and removed some imaginary lint from his person.

"So, Blaise is waiting outside, feeling rather left out."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Yes, well. It won't kill him to wait, and there is no way that he is coming in here and seeing the wedding dress before the actual wedding!" Hermione exclaimed with a huff. "It just isn't done."

Theo snickered.

"Some people say other things 'aren't done' before marriage, too…" He mentioned airily, enjoying riling his twin up. Hermione just scowled and put a defensive hand on her stomach, choosing to change the subject.

"How's Lavender?"

"She's doing splendidly."

"And the family?" Hermione asked, unable to contain her spiteful glee.

It was Theo's turn to scowl.

"Dinner is an affair that we have agreed to have once a fortnight for the sake of everybody's sanity." He told the ladies. "Personally, I'd prefer once a year. The family can be unbearable when in large groups."

The soft sound of ladylike sniggers filled the air, as all the women were clearly enjoying Theo's imminent suffering.

"That's all for now, ladies." Genevieve interrupted the snicker-fest, and magically packed away all of her materials. "Bridesmaids dresses and the like will be done in the shop at a later date - owl me with the details. It's been lovely, as usual."

The smartly dressed and undeniably talented lady was seen out by a house elf, and the others distinctly heard her tell Blaise to keep his eyes averted from her bags if he wished to actually attend the wedding conscious.

When he entered, the ladies and Theo were all seated comfortably and taking tea and cakes. He kissed his mother's cheek and then Hermione on the brow as he sat beside her.

"Dress-fitting went well, I take it?"

"Yes, it did." Anatalia affirmed. "So: no more snooping from you."

Blaise laughed, but promised that he'd be good. Neither of the witches believed him.

**

Butterflies fluttered around Hermione tummy as she sat demurely, allowing Anatalia and her adopted mother to fuss over her and direct the dark blue garbed bridesmaids (Ginny, Lavender, Daphne and Pansy) in their duties.

"The tiara." Anatalia snapped, holding her hand out to Daphne, who held the delicate hairpiece in its wooden box.

Settling the twisted silver tiara on Hermione's head, the older woman smiled.

"Stunning, Hermione, darling."

"Just beautiful." The woman whom she had called mother for near seventeen years agreed, standing behind her at looking at her through the mirror. She held a small, draw-string bag which she dropped in Hermione's freshly manicured hand.

"Just a small muggle tradition."

Opening the bag, Hermione found a few small items which she set out on the vanity.

A lacy garter.

"That was mine. I wore it at my wedding-" Mrs Granger explained, clearly remembering the occasion with fondness, "- something old."

A pair of pale green crystal earrings was withdrawn.

"Something new." The older woman noted, smiling when Hermione released a small gasp at the information that followed. "They're Swarovski crystal."

The remaining object was a decorative silver hair comb with sapphire blue jewels that Mrs Granger attached to an opaque, short veil placed above the French bun managing the majority of Hermione's hair.

"I knew you'd be wearing the Zabini tiara, so you have something borrowed and something blue now, too."

Kissing her adopted daughter on both cheeks, Mrs Granger smiled one last time before leaving to find her husband and take her seat.

Hermione felt stunned, and a little bit humbled at her adoptive mother's actions, and had to will herself quite forcibly not to burst into tears at the gesture.

"Don't you dare cry, Hermione Gra-Nott!" Pansy roused. "I'm not doing your make up again."

Hermione laughed, and was soon joined by the others.

"Oh, just put on your shoes." Pansy scolded laughingly.

The shoes had been an experiment – albeit a very successful one – of Theo's. He had carved the base of each shoe from oak, and spent hours and a great deal of energy using both his wizard and nymph magic to fiddle with grasses, vines, and other woods in order to create a pair of heels that were natural and magical, and absolutely perfect for the wedding outfit.

"It's almost time, ladies." Anatalia warned them, as Hermione did as Pansy bid her. "I must go visit my son now, Hermione."

**

Hermione waited nervously outside the enormous wooden doors, wetting her lips as her father – her real father – walked up to her, smiling cautiously.

"Thank you for asking me to do this, Hermione." He said quietly. "I'm so proud of you."

"You're my father. Of course I would ask you." Hermione answered as a pretty blush coated her cheeks, placing her arm in his as the music started and doors opened, allowing her bridesmaids to walk slowly down the aisle.

Through lowered lids, Hermione saw Blaise, dressed in a smart tuxedo-esque dress robe, gazing back at her, love emanating from his every pore. She smiled.

Hermione and her father promenaded down the aisle, hearing whispers of how lovely she looked and how happy people were for them all…

Reaching the bonding wizard and her groom, Hermione kissed her father's cheek and let him find his seat.

Blaise's eyes were twinkling as the bonder began his recitation.

**

"Do you, Blaise Angelo Zabini, take Hermione Jane Nott to be your bonded wife through sickness and health, good times and bad, until death parts you?"

"I do." Blaise responded, not removing his gaze from Hermione's.

"And do you, Hermione Jane Nott, take Blaise Angelo Zabini to be your bonded husband through sickness and health, good times and bad, until death shall you part?"

Hermione stared lovingly at her mate, feeling complete and more alive than ever before as she answered.

"I do."

As instructed, the pair clasped hands, and from the bonder's wand shot a strand of gold that wrapped around their entwined hands and seeped into the very pores of their skin.

They didn't wait for permission; Blaise leaned forward and ghosted his lips over hers once before kissing her properly, much to the pleasure of the guests who cheered happily for the newlyweds.

Both were beaming when they finally pulled away, and as they made their way back down the aisle, the guests brought their attention to the trail of perfect, white lilies that grew wherever Hermione stepped.

Glancing at them, Hermione giggled, and returned to her task of dragging her new husband down the marble steps and towards the awaiting carriage pulled by a pair of magnificent winged Abraxan horses.

The pair were seen off by their friends and family, and Hermione gave bear hugs to her two Gryffindor boys, followed by all of her more recent comrades who promised they look after each other (and to whom promises were made that Hermione would tell all when she arrived home from the honeymoon).

When the carriage pulled away, Hermione smirked as Lavender and Pansy both sent winks her way, to the evident confusion of Blaise, who chose not to delve into the stranger parts of the female mind.

Hermione thought happily at the way her year had turned out as she snuggled into Blaise's side as they trundled towards the open fields from where the Abraxans would take flight in order to carry them to their French destination.

**Awwww. That's the wedding up and done… There will only be a handful of these, just to let people know. =D**


	2. Pregnancy

**DISCLAIM! =D Yer, it's not mine.**

**PREGNANCY & ENGAGMENTS**

The honeymoon was lovely.

Hermione sighed in remembrance of the lazy days, and mornings filled with languid, pregnant sex (at first they had been a little concerned about doing it while Hermione was carrying twins already, but eventually discovered that it wouldn't be harmful to the growing children).

"What's that sigh for?" Blaise asked, walking into the room and, seating himself beside his wife, handed her a steaming cup of tea.

"It was a happy sigh, don't worry." She responded, dropping a kiss to his lips and snuggling closer as she sipped her tea; the pair of them drifting into a companionable, comfortable silence.

"Hermione?"

"Hmmmm." She hummed against the rim of the cup.

"I was thinking that, perhaps, we might have a small get together with the others, now that we're back." Blaise put to her, watching her to gauge any negative reaction. His concern was unwarranted as she smiled prettily.

"Oh," she exclaimed. "That's a wonderful idea."

Her eyes were alight with interest now, and he could practically hear the whirring of her mind as she considered all the things to be done as hosts.

"Slow down, woman." He joked, and she sent him a half-hearted glare.

"Oh, hush. I was just pondering who to invite, and when." She reprimanded her husband before continuing.

"I'm thinking Draco and Pansy, Theo and Lavender, and also Daphne – Greg is invited too, but I think he's away at the moment, isn't he?" Hermione questioned superfluously, as she barely paused before launching into speech once again. "Harry and Ron, naturally, and Ginny, too – I'm not sure they'll come, but it's nice to ask, anyway."

She smiled at Blaise, who brushed a stray hair from her forehead tenderly and gently pressed his large hand over the gentle swell of her pregnant stomach.

**

In theory, the 'little get together' was a simple affair, with friends coming for a light dinner and some drinks in the evening.

In practice, the affair was a complex one, with the need for secrecy and slyness because of the reporters that were camped outside their home, and the homes of their friends that had aided in defeating the Dark Lord.

Hermione travelled by floo, personally inviting their friends to join them, and received positive responses from all but Ron and Greg. Perfect.

So currently, the pregnant brunette was ensuring that the house was looking lovely, her husband was looking dapper, and the food and beverages were ready to be consumed. Everything seemed to be on track.

Unfortunately, the press had gotten wind of the gathering and were now, in their entirety, parked on the front lawn.

Hermione scowled in their general direction but lost the expression immediately as Blaise'sarms wrapped around her waist. He pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Ignore them and enjoy your party." He scolded her, just as the fireplace flared, ejecting Daphne.

"Hello, hello." She said with a smirk, brushing down her sundress. "Still can't keep your hands off one another, I see."

"Hello, Daphne." Hermione smiled widely and embraced her friend. They had barely released one another when the fireplace lit up once again, to reveal Harry and Ginny. Harry, Hermione noticed, looked a bit pink and ruffled, while Ginny didn't appear to be bothered. Hermione grinned inwardly, guessing exactly what had happened before the two had flooed over.

They each greeted Hermione warmly, and made small talk until the remaining guests – Draco, Theo, Lavender and Pansy – arrived, whereupon they moved into the dining room.

Lunch was a success, but it was the catching up that they all looked forward to; minus Harry, who was all too aware of the fact that he would be left with Nott, Malfoy and Zabini, and, despite their civility, it was still an awkward affair.

Indeed, the Boy-Saviour was right, for after dessert, the ladies were shepherded into the ladies lounge, and the boys retired to the billiard room.

As host, Blaise poured them each a glass of brandy and they took seats in the expensive leather armchairs.

**

"So, tell us all the juicy details." Ginny begged, Daphne looking at the pregnant witch pleadingly as Lavender watched, amused, from the couch opposite. Meanwhile, Pansy took care of the refreshments in their host's stead.

"Yes, Hermione, tell us everything." The sharp, dark haired witch agreed, handing over a cup of tea.

Laughing, Hermione took a sip.

"Perhaps not _everything_." She conceded, settling into the soft, plush lounge. "But certainly some."

"It was the most glorious location." Hermione started dreamily. "All sunshine and clear blue water - and in complete solitude."

"Bet that came in handy." Ginny snickered.

"You have no idea." Hermione responded wickedly, making the girls laugh. "We did some experimentation with my earth-magic, which was interesting. Vines are so useful."

Refusing to add anything else to that sentence, Hermione moved on to Pansy.

"And how is Draco?"

"Just fine…" she answered with a glowing smile. "I suspect he has something to ask me, and is currently finding the perfect way to do so." She phrased it delicately, but it wasn't at all obtuse to the other women. Daphne gasped, and hugged her best friend.

"That's wonderful."

Ginny smiled then, and looked around at the girls who seemed so genuinely happy to be there, chatting casually about boys and life.

"Actually, Hermione, there's something you, especially, should know."

Hermione looked at the girl who was practically her sister, curious as to what was meant.

Lavender's eyes flickered to the bare skin on Ginny's left hand.

"Harry proposed just before we arrived."

Hermione shrieked excitedly and threw her arms around Ginny in a bear hug.

"Merlin's pants, Gin! Why didn't you say so earlier!"

"We're trying to keep it quiet, out of the papers." She gushed clearly giddy about the newest development in her life.

Hermione slapped her arm softly.

"And you couldn't tell me straight away?"

She laughed and hugged Ginny once again, before letting the others offer their congratulations. The red head was beaming, and Hermione considered interrupting the boys, before deciding her tackling Harry could wait a few hours.

"I knew something was up." Daphne admitted. "When you two came through, he was practically delirious, and you were definitely glowing."

"I'd like to see Potter's choice of ring." Pansy commented wryly. Ginny blushed as she held out her hand, the previously hidden ring (charmed to be seen only when one already knew of the wearer's engagement) glinted in the sunlight.

"That's so sneaky!" Lavender exclaimed. "When I saw Harry's face earlier on I looked for the ring, but it wasn't there! Boys are so transparent."

It was formidable rock, but not overlarge, flanked by two small rubies, set in a platinum band.

"Very nice." Pansy judged, impressed. "The boy's got taste, it appears."

**

Blaise had deftly avoided any conversation that would lead to questions about how his wife was in bed. Too bad he hadn't realised that _that_ was exactly his wife and her girlfriends were discussing several rooms down, albeit with him as the subject.

Draco was swilling his brandy around his glass, while Theo and Potter – Harry, he reminded himself – conversed congenially. The topic had drifted onto business, if Blaise wasn't wrong.

"So, Draco; how goes the wooing of our lovely Miss Parkinson?" He questioned the blond, who threw the rest of his drink down his throat.

"It was going splendidly until I decided to look for the engagement ring."

Blaise raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"None of them are good enough, and Mother is still wearing the Malfoy ring, so that rules that out." He scowled, and Blaise shook his head.

"Are you up for a game of billiards?" He asked - he'd continue the conversation later, after they played a game or two.

"And Ginevra…" Theo asked Harry. "How go the pair of you?"

"A little ahead of you and Lav, I believe." Harry responded. "Actually, I think you'll find the hostess trying to knock the door down in a minute: Gin and I are engaged."

Draco very nearly missed his shot – even Potter was beating him in the marriage race.

"Congratulations, Harry." Theo offered with a smile, extending a hand to clap the scruffy saviour on the shoulder. "You deserve some happiness, and a good long respite!"

"Hear, hear." Blaised called over to them, raising his drink in a salute to Harry.

The green eyed boy was positively glowing, and his eyes were twinkling as he turned to Draco.

"Congratulations, Potter." Draco told him. "You beat me again."

The blond smiled crookedly, he couldn't muster any bad feelings for the man across the room. They were comrades now, and petty grudges were all in the past. His decision must have been reflected in his eyes, because Harry gave a smile and a barely visible nod in return.

"Speaking of all these engagements," Harry continued, directing his question to Draco. "Why's Pansy's finger still bare?"

The blond exhaled noisily.

"I can't find the right ring. I mean, ideally I'd give her the Malfoy engagement ring, but that's currently on mother's finger, and she's not going anywhere anytime soon."

"Talk to your mother, Draco." He interrupted, seriously. "If you explain it to her I'm almost certain she'll give it to you. After all, as soon as you marry, she won't be the reigning Lady Malfoy."

"I hardly thi-"

"Try it, Draco. Give her a chance." Blaise pushed. "She might surprise you. Besides, she's always liked Pansy."

"Fine." Draco sighed. "I'll visit her tomorrow."

The conversation didn't last for much longer, because, true to Harry's prediction, Hermione's otter patronus flew through the door and said: "Put your clothes back on boys, the ladies are coming."

Harry raised his eyebrow at Blaise, as Theo flushed pink and Draco avoided eye contact.

"A bit too much Firewhiskey…a boy's night in…and strip poker. Enough said." Blaise explained without telling Harry very much at all.

The door flew open to reveal Hermione, who strode over to Harry and enveloped him in a tight hug.

"I can't believe you didn't say anything!"

"I'm engaged!" Harry answered cheekily, ducking her swat as the other men congratulated a blushing, gushing Ginny.

"Oh, you're so silly." Hermione grinned, pleased for her two friends. "Come on, everyone; let's have some celebratory ice-cream!"

Draco sent a curious look to Blaise.

"_The cravings are starting."_ The Italian mouthed in response.

Jovially, the group made their way into the kitchen to gorge themselves on the delicious creamy flavours of Florean Fortescue's home range of ice cream._  
_


	3. Cravings

**Cravings**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, although 'The Slytherin Half' was my concept =D Please have a look-see if you haven't already.**

The wedding and honeymoon's ridiculous publicity combined with the pair's relations with other notorious public figures (schoolmates and ministry officials, both) brought the constant appearance of paparazzi and, in order to protect them from the unrelenting hounding of the press in the days following their return from a rather splendid honeymoon, Blaise had brought Hermione to the Zabini's luxurious Italian estates in Tuscany where they had spent the last five or so months lazing in the sun and swimming in the ocean –the current spring weather remaining at a balmy twenty eight plus degrees.

Hermione's stomach had swelled with her progressing pregnancy and poked out of the water, as she floated on her back, like an enormous mountain before her eyes. She smiled and let a wet had slide over its roundness in the fading light.

Two lives were growing inside of her, getting bigger each day. It seemed so absurd to her some days.

Her mate splashed through the shallows until he reached her side, wrapping his arms around her when she righted herself.

"Well, Mrs Zabini." Blaise murmured against her neck, his hands dropping to caress her round stomach lovingly. "What do you say about retiring for the day?"

"I say that is a wonderful idea."

The self-proclaimed bookworm tilted her head to reveal her slender neck, enticing her husband's talented lips to fall upon her perfect skin. She let an appreciative moan escape her mouth and he pulled her closer to him so that she was flush against his body.

"Inside. Now." Hermione instructed breathily, feeling her mate smirk against her skin.

**

"But I don't want to bathe in water!"

A womanly voice called through the silence of the villa.

"I want a mud bath!" Hermione argued crankily.

Blaise looked astounded, and turned back to look at his wife, who lay amongst the rumple covers in her underwear, stomach protruding enough by now that she had to sit up a little in order to see over it when lying on her back.

"A _mud_ bath? Why on earth-"

"Don't ask questions, Blaise."

Hermione flopped back down in a huff.

"I'm an earth nymph, hence, I like earth. I want to bathe, so I want to bathe in earth. It's not that difficult!" She complained to her mate, but, clearly, he didn't agree because he hadn't moved and his current facial expression was one of perplexity.

"Transfigure it or something, Blaise – you're a wizard!" Hermione exclaimed, pushing herself into a standing position. Blaise chose not to point out the forced change in her walk; he supposed she wouldn't appreciate being told how adorable she looked waddling around the villa with her pregnant tummy – he quite liked all his parts where they were, thank you very much.

Instead, Blaise followed her instructions and wandered into the bathroom shaking his head and preparing her a mud bath that rivalled any other.

Hermione waddled in a moment later, and her cranky disposition vanished to be replaced with a blissful look of utter relaxation. She didn't bother to shoo Blaise out as she undressed, dropping her bra and knickers onto the tiled floor and conveniently ignored his approving look at her newly voluptuous pregnant body.

Dropping herself as daintily as possible into the warm, fluid mud the part-nymph sighed in contentment.

Soon, Hermione was humming gently – whether to herself, Blaise or the baby, the dark haired man wasn't sure – and Blaise wandered to the kitchen to seek out the house elf and find out the dinner menu.

His wife lazed in the mud for over an hour, feeling rejuvenated when she climbed out of the large tub, before draping a silken dressing gown of regal purple over herself and searching for Blaise in the smallest sitting room.

He was where she had believed he would be, nursing a cup of tea as he read the Daily Prophet – it must have arrived during Hermione's bath.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you, my darling." Hermione murmured, sliding beside him on the lounge and curling her legs under herself.

Blaise smiled.

"You're carrying our children, Hermione. I think you can feel snappy whenever you want if it makes you feel better." He told her with a small chuckle, kissing her temple.

"It's cravings, actually." Hermione explained to him, rubbing a hand over his chest subconsciously.

Blaise raised an eyebrow.

"Ah."

Hermione's head fell gently onto Blaise's shoulder.

"Speaking of cravings," she started, a coy smile gracing her features. "I'm craving something right now."

Her hand had slowly, slowly been dragging down his chest and was now tantalisingly close to Blaise's crotch.

However, what he had been anticipating never happened because she suddenly pulled away with a wicked grin.

"Maple leaf and paperbark tea."

Blaise groaned quietly.

"You, witch, will be paying for that later." He whispered against her lips, before pressing a kiss to them and going into the kitchen to do her bidding.

At least he was a wizard, Blaise thought to himself. Maple leaf and paperbark could pose a problem for muggle husbands whose wives were having bizarre cravings.

**

Hermione started. Had she imagined it?

A tiny foot kicked out for the second time and Hermione smiled in wonder. It was one of her babies.

"Blaise!"

The dark haired man ran into the room, looking panicked.

"What's wrong, what's happening?!" He cried out, stopping when Hermione giggled.

"Silly." She told him with a grin. "Come here."

Complying, the Italian sat next to her on the lounge, letting her take his hand and place it over her stomach. The tiny limb moved once more, and Blaise's eyes shone as he looked up at Hermione with a mixture of excitement, adoration and the tiniest amount of uncertainty.

"It's our babies." She murmured, covering his hand with her own. Suddenly, the other twin moved and the curly haired witch was unable to stop the two happy tears from trailing down her face.

"Both of them."

**

Blaise awoke to a clattering sound in the kitchen, followed by a short burst of profanities. He sighed, but had to smile as he heard the distinct huff of his wife.

Dragging himself out of the bedroom - a marvellous feat he thought, seeing as it was four in the morning – Blaise padded into the kitchen to find Hermione putting back a tub of ice-cream into the large freezer.

This, in itself, wasn't so strange.

What was _unusual_ was the other ingredients resting in the bowl she had scooped the vanilla ice-cream into: two tomatoes were chopped up and mushed into the ice cream, and she had squeezed a large pile of wasabi onto the top of it, like icing.

Blaise made a face.

"That's disgusting."

Hermione glanced at him, shrugged, and shovelled the first spoonful into her mouth before sighing contently.

"That's why you're not eating it Snake-Boy." She retorted, smiling as he grimaced. "Our babies are picky eaters."

Shaking his head, he kissed her temple, ran a hand gently across her belly, and went back to bed, falling back to sleep with the trace of a smile still on his handsome face.

**Another one down! Please, be a responsible reader and review.**


	4. Childbirth

**The Pains of Childbirth**

**Disclaimer:**** Only the plot of The Slytherin Half is even remotely mine. =] All else to JKR.**

"Blaise!"

The quiet of the Sunday morning was shattered by a woman's yell, reaching to all corners of the villa.

"BLAISE!"

Hermione was halfway to kitchen, holding the door frame with one hand while the other clutched at her pregnant stomach. She heaved in a breath, and grumbled shortly under her breath about male incompetence before tilting her head back and bellowing for her husband once more.

"HOLY MOTHER OF MERLIN - BLAISE ZABINI, IF YOU AREN'T IN FRONT OF ME IN-"

"I'm here!" Blaise yelled, pulling on a button up shirt as he tore around the corner into view. "What's wrong?"

Hermione's glare lasted only for a second as a second wave of contractions hit.

"They're coming."

For a moment, Blaise ceased all movement, a goofy expression threatening to break out over his face, but he collected himself (aided by the icy expression Hermione directed at him) and sprang into action.

"To the floo – careful, my darling."

To his credit, he barely winced as Hermione's vice like grip on the door frame was transferred to his right bicep. She waddled over to the fireplace, breathing in the manner she had read about, and waited for Blaise to take them through to St Mungo's.

**

Hermione was lying in the white bed, grumbling about men and the easy lives they led, while Blaise was searching for some food (or at least a bag of chips and some coffee) at the downstairs kiosk. When he returned, Hermione hurled one of her pillows at his head.

"I'm never being pregnant again." She huffed as the pillow connected with wall and slid down to the ground (she'd never been very good in the hand-eye coordination, although her hand-face was excellent).

"Come now, Hermione. It'll be over soon, and we'll have two beautiful babies in our life." Blaise said soothingly, approaching her bed with his black coffee in hand.

His wife couldn't help the glowing smile from encroaching on her features.

Motherhood. She was going to be a mother so very soon.

"That's my girl." Blaise whispered, kissing her temple and making her sigh deeply.

Since their arrival in the Witch Maternity Ward, the contraction had eased up, so Hermione's adrenalin and the knowledge of the pain that was going to hit was being bottled up, making her cranky.

She felt a vague wash of pity for Blaise; the next few hours weren't going to be any more enjoyable for him than her.

"Darling, would you get me some water?" She asked him with puppy-dog eyes. "And be a dear: call Theo and let him know…Harry, Pansy, and the others too."

"Of course."

Blaise smiled winsomely and left to find the Floos that were reserved for calls to family and close friends.

Annoyingly it took almost half an hour to locate the blasted things, and even then he'd had to wait another ten minutes for one to free up. Clearly it was going to be a busy night for the midwives, Blaise thought as he made the first call to Theo.

"Oi!" The Italian yelled to attract attention, and it was Lavender's head that popped up in the flames.

"Blaise, how are you?" She asked, smiling as she realised who it was.

"Wonderful. Is Theo there?" He asked quickly. "He might want to know that Hermione's in the maternity ward at St Mungo's."

Lavender squealed, and her head disappeared momentarily as she cried out for her husband, whose head replaced hers in the fireplace, a grin on his face.

"Congratulations, mate. Or is that premature, your night going to be reminiscent of hell, after all." He smirked. "We'll be right in, Blaise. Anything you need?"

"Actually, now that you mention it…" Blaise murmured slowly, considering their offer.

A short discussion later, Theo and Lavender promised that they would take care of informing the others, and that they would be there as soon as possible.

**

"Hermione, Theo and Lavender are taking care of the others, and they'll be here soon." Blaise told her as he entered the room once again.

"Grea-" Hermione didn't finish her response, as, finally, after three hours of nothing, the contractions started up again.

"Merlins-Bloody -Hideous Pants!" Hermione cried out in frustration, clutching her stomach. Blaise was removed from the bedside to allow the medi-witch better access, and it was perhaps luck that brought Theo and Lavender to the doorway at that exact moment.

Lavender was looking a little apprehensive, seeing Hermione screaming in pain was always disconcerting, childbirth or no.

"Hi, thanks for coming." Blaise greeted them with a faint smile, eyes only flickering away from Hermione for the tiniest second.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Theo responded, looking happier than Blaise had even seen him, and that included when he had found his mate. Blood was truly the tightest bond.

"How is she?" He added, trying to glimpse his twin over the bustling medi-witches that seemed to be multiplying.

_Bloody brilliant. You try pushing out two people out of your bloody va-_

He hadn't meant to project his thoughts, but judging by Hermione's malicious response – thankfully cut short by another scream of pain - he had. He needed to work on that, still.

_Father will be here soon. Light at the end of the tunnel, Hermione. Light at the end._

Theo was still staring at his sister while they communicated, although her attention was not upon him, so he saw her send the two fingered salute at him. He grinned.

"Harry and Ginny are coming, but Ron can't be reached at work - he must be on duty. Oh, and Daphne's out, Greg's at work, but Pansy has gone to drag Draco away from work." Theo rejoined the conversation, wrapping a strong arm around Lavender.

"In fact, I believe I hear Pansy now." Lavender added, cocking her head to the side.

She was quite right.

At that moment, Pansy's admonishing voice was becoming increasingly closer, and Draco's could now be heard, apologising for something or other. What was most amusing, however, was the sight of the youngest Malfoy as he turned into the hallway.

Draco was carrying an enormous balloon, half pink and half blue in the shape of a foot, bearing the word 'congratulations' (flowers, too - a large bouquet with pink tinged, white lilies).

Pansy strode forward to kiss Blaise's cheek, then Lavender before finally extending her greeting to Theo.

"How is she faring?" Pansy queried, glancing into the room as another yell broke the almost silence.

"Take a guess, Pans." Theo told her with raised eyebrows. She wrinkled her nose in response.

"Merlin, I hope our first is a boy. I refuse to go through this more than once." Pansy answered. "Perhaps I can do a Nott, and just have twins. Two for the price of one."

The group burst into laughter at that admission.

"Excuse me, sirs, ladies." The midwife interrupted politely. "Would Mr Zabini please speak with me for a second?"

Blaise spun around, assuming something bad had happened.

"Is she alright?"

The midwife indulged in a small smile, chuckling at his reaction.

"No, no. Nothing is wrong, I was just confirming your place at the birth. You want to be in the room, yes?" The motherly brunette explained to Blaise.

"Of course." He answered quickly. "Is she close, then?"

"Very. Please follow me inside, Mr Zabini."

Turning to the others, Blaise gave a goofy grin.

"It's time."

The women practically pushed him into the room, beaming at him all the while.

**

"Keep breathing – you can do it!"

"Push! Keep pushing!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHH!"

Blaise was pressed against the bed and his sweaty wife while she pushed, his hand clasped in death grip. One which somehow tightened with every push.

"!" She screamed, followed shortly after by Blaise's own yell as her grip cut off the circulation to his fingers.

"AAAAAAAAAGH!"

"That's one, Mrs Zabini, keep it up – the other babe is coming quickly." The midwife assured them as a medi-witch swathed the first child – their first child – in a blanket.

Sure enough, the second baby came out quickly and within several minutes, the babies were wrapped in blankets (one pink, one blue) and handed over to their mother.

All the pain was forgotten as soon she held her babies in her arms. A beautiful baby boy and a gorgeous baby girl, neither of which were screaming, as was so common after birth. It was something noted by the midwife, although she didn't comment on it other than the one statement.

Blaise, however, was still shaken from the screaming, and apparent agonising pain his wife had been in.

"Blaise…" She murmured, shifting slightly. "Meet your babies."

His breathing stopped for a second or two, as he gazed at the tiny bodies, four eyes of the brightest green staring back at him.

"My children…"

It was often said that mothers became mothers as soon as they knew they were pregnant, but fathers became fathers when they could see and hold their child. It was certainly true for Blaise.

The midwife helped place his daughter in his arms, and Blaise could feel heat stinging his eyes as he fought not to cry. In a gentle motion, his lips caressed the top of his daughters head.

"What shall we name them?" Hermione whispered, smiling joyously through her exhaustion.

"Oliver Jeremiah." Blaise responded, looking to see Hermione's reaction. She looked thoughtful, but didn't speak yet, so he continued. "And Ollala Sophia."

"Ollala is lovely." Hermione interjected. "But perhaps Jeremiah as the first name for our son, rather than Oliver?"

"Jeremiah Oliver Zabini. Ollala Sophia Zabini." He practiced saying the names and smiled. "Perfect."

With that he kissed her on the mouth, putting all of his feelings of love and contentment into their kiss.

**

"Father, Theo, Harry, Gin, Draco, Pans, Lav… meet Ollala Sophia and Jeremiah Oliver."

Hermione sat in the bed still, surrounded by friends and family. Her father was teary-eyed, and seated close to her while Hermione held both newborns and Blaise stood proudly beside her.

There was much cooing and congratulations shared around, and the joyous occasion lasted for many hours, eventually having Ron and Daphne arrive, bearing flowers and ballons.

"They are truly beautiful." Pansy sighed, a dainty finger held tightly by Jeremiah - or Jem, as Harry had already shortened it to.

Hermione and Blaise looked at one another and smiled, the kind of happiness felt only by new parents painted on their handsome faces.

**

"Harry, we'd like you and Gin to be Jeremiah's godparents…"

**

"You two mean a lot to us, Pansy. We'd be ever so happy if you agreed to be Ollala's godparents…"

**Naaaaw. Hermione and Blaise are new parents! Also, Ollala is pronounced 'O-ya-la'. Like Fernando Torres' wife. It's Spanish, I believe, but hey - it's a pretty name. And Draco and Pansy are Ollala's godparents, and Ginbangers and Harry are Jem's. Yay! **

**Hope you like it!!**

**Please, Read and Review Responsibly!**


	5. Childhood

**Disclaimer: It is not in any way, shape, or form belonging to moi. **

_2009: First Year_

"Come here, you little miscreants." Hermione laughed, planting noisy kisses on her son and giving her daughter a warm hug. "I can't believe you're starting Hogwarts already."

Blaise smirked from beside her, ruffling Jem's hair (to the boy's irritation) and pecking a kiss to Ollala's temple when she presented it to him with an expectant smile chattering about all the exciting things that awaited them at school: friends, lessons, ("Quidditch!" Jem inserted), the Giant Squid, the library.

"You're just like your mother." Blaise murmured proudly, before turning to his boy. "Try and keep your feet on the ground, at least in front of the professors."

Though neither child had inherited their nymph powers yet, they were fairly certain of the elements each child was connected to; Ollala's love of all things earthy and Jem's need to be in the air, either flying on a broom or standing at the highest point and feeling gusting breeze or powerful gales pushing against him, were rather clear indications.

Jeremiah grinned devilishly, and was herded onto the train by his mother, his sister taking the front handles of their trunks, leaving him with the back. Telepathic communication was really very helpful sometimes; it saved a lot of trouble, it creeped out other people, and it was an efficient, sly way of discussing plans (of which they had many). Oh, and their parents couldn't rebuke them for insulting each other, that was good too.

"Remember, if you have any trouble, talk to Teddy." Hermione reminded her twin children, as the train began to let out puffs of steam.

They waved goodbye until the station was out of sight, and then the siblings settled themselves in the carriage; Apple, Ollala's part kneazle cat (her mother had insisted on that when Ollala expressed her desire for a kitten) was prowling the unfamiliar space and gazing lazily every so often at Jem's owl, Pax, a pretty Eastern Grass Owl with golden tints to her feathers. Apple was a more attractive feline than Crookshanks had been, with feathered ears and tortoiseshell colouring and bright orange eyes that were full of intelligence.

Ollala ran her hand along the wood inlay, feeling the life inside it and wanting to call forth the ivy vines. She sighed. Oh, how she wished her nymph powers would awaken already.

The door slammed against the frame as it was heaved open, and a gangly, dark haired boy stepped through, his hair a messy mop and his trunk trailing behind him.

"Hi." He said, in a slight Scottish brogue, realising he'd crashed another occupied compartment. "Are you first years, or do I have to leave again?"

Jem grinned at his forward question. "You can sit with us – we're first years."

"Excellent. I'm Jasper." He introduced himself, shoving his belongings into the compartment and narrowly avoiding stepping on Apple, who hissed a warning, but didn't seem to mind too much because she jumped into his lap when he sat down and purred happily as he petted her.

"Jeremiah – Jem, if you like – and this is my sister, Ollala." Jem said, and smiled down at the cat. "Looks like you're an alright fellow, Jasper, if Apple's taken a liking to you. She's part kneazle."

"Wicked; Dad's told me about them, said he knew a girl at Hogwarts who had one." Jasper replied, scratching Apple's chin as she walked her front legs up his shoulder, following his fingers.

"That'd be our mum," Ollala told their new acquaintance. "Hermione Granger. But it's Zabini now. What'd you say your last name was?"

"I didn't. It's Wood. Dad was the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team."

"Oliver Wood! My godfather's talked about him – he played in the English League, didn't he?" Jem interrupted interestedly. "Awesome."

_Jem_. Ollala mentally scolded her brother. _Stop being impolite._

Jasper apparently didn't mind, and the two started chatting about the current teams and whether or not the Falmouth Falcons would still top the table once the Tornadoes poached their number one chaser, Marcus Flint, for some obscene amount of Galleons, and possibly the promise of lady friend or two.

OoO

_2011: Third Year_

"Yala? Apple's gotten fat. What are you feeding her?" James Sirius Potter, Harry's oldest child and the bane of Jem's life (the first year had attached himself to his father's godson tighter than a lichen to a rock and seemed to spend more time in Ravenclaw Tower than he did in the Gryffindor common room), asked as he squatted down beside the part kneazle who was currently stretched out in the sunshine that had spilled into the room and onto her favourite rug.

"What?"

Ollala turned from her study table to scrutinise her pet, who had been insulted twice now in regards to her weight (the first time had been Jem, earlier in the week). "I haven't changed anything in her diet, so she shouldn't be."

"Well, she is. Look at her. She's huge."

"Maybe she's pregnant." Jasper offered from his place on one of the couches. He'd taken to studying with the twins in their common room because Ravenclaw tower was a lot more conducive than Gryffindor's to work. Initially, no one had minded, but since James had arrived, the older kids would grumble about invasions and what not, complaining about overexposure to brash stupidity and reckless bravery.

A black cat jumped down from a nearby table as if in response to that suggestion and rubbed itself against Apple, purring loudly.

"Davies!" Ollala yelled. "Your cat's got mine preggers!"

Jasper sniggered.

Nicodemus Davies was a fourth year with a ridiculously complete and obscure knowledge of Quidditch statistics from 1849 until the modern day. The very modern day. He knew the result and numbers before the final whistle was finished being blown.

"Yeah, and?" The shouted reply floated down from one of the dormitories.

"You're a wanker." She finished, going back to her homework and searching out her twin in her mind.

_Jem, where are you. I finished Pucey's essay if you want to have read over it._

_I'm hiding in the library._

_Can I buy a 'context'?_

_Rowntree's been making passes at me all day and I think she's stalking me, with a final plan to ambush me while I walk back to our tower. Save me, please._

Ollala smirked, feeling a deep sense of schadenfreude. Helena Rowntree wasn't really all that bad, but she had an awful, awful laugh and sly, calculating streak a mile long disguised in Hufflepuff colours and blonde pigtails.

"Jem needs saving. Again." She informed the Scottish boy, who raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Rowntree." That explained everything, because Jasper winced in understanding and followed her out of the portrait hole in sombre silence, James tagging behind for two corridors until Ollala turned and mutely pointed in the direction of Gryffindor tower. The first year scowled but grudgingly obeyed the silent order.

When they reached the library, it was to the unexpected scene of Rowntree storming huffily out the great doors hissing under her breath about how she'd never been so offended in her life, and if Zabini thought more of that tramp than her, then she was well rid of him. Jasper and Ollala withheld their disbelieving laughter at the last statement. Merlin, she was deluded if she thought she'd ever had him.

_What did you do?_ Ollala threw her question out to her twin, making her way inside. He didn't answer, mostly because he didn't need to.

Tilly Andrews, a Slytherin girl from their year, was in the process of climbing off a rather pink cheeked Jem, whose arms she'd jumped into in a successful effort to ward off Rowntree's advances.

"Dude. What the hell?" Jasper eloquently asked of his mate. Tilly fixed her hair.

"You're welcome." She told the blushing boy, straightening his tie which she'd inadvertently disturbed during the impromptu rescue that appeared to have taken place, before darting back to her worktable as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"Erm." Jem announced articulately, before shaking his head to clear the jumbled thoughts.

"That wasn't what it looked like."

"So Andrews wasn't groping you in an attempt to scare off Rowntree?" Ollala inquired cheekily.

Her brother made to give his denial but then paused. "Actually, yeah, that's pretty much it."

"We figured as much."

Crisis averted, the trio began the climb back to Ravenclaw tower, using the secret passage Hermione had told them about one Christmas break.

"By the way, Apple's not fat. She's pregnant."

OoO

_2013: Fifth Year_

"But sir-" Jem whined, giving his best doe eyes to Professor Pucey, the Defence professor.

"That wasn't a request, Zabini." The teacher pointed out, though he wasn't angry at the backchat. "Besides, you need to know this for OWLs."

Jem frowned, but stood to comply with the instructions he'd been given; casting a corporeal patronus. It wasn't that he couldn't do it, because he could – easily. It was more the shape it took. In the middle of a life or death situation, no one would care if a baby owl shot out the end of your wand in a puff of silvery mist, but in a classroom full of fifteen year olds – heck, it was embarrassing.

_Volunteer, please._

_Why should I? You cast a perfect patronus._

_Because you love me too much to watch me be eaten alive by competitive, hormonal teenage boys?_

_Ha. You're so melodramatic._

_Please?_

"Professor, please, I'd like to perform the charm." Ollala spoke up sweetly. She could get away with most things in this class, because she was bright, pretty and quietly sneaky, and, well, Pucey _had_ been a Slytherin.

The handsome professor looked between them sharply, probably aware of their private conversation but unable to prove it, and after a moment finally yielded to her innocent mask with an acquiescing nod.

Ollala's patronus was just as well performed as Jem's would have been, although the corporeal shape was more threatening. The students weren't quite sure what it was, but it had sharp teeth and looked a bit like a small, stocky, angry dog.

"What is it?" Someone ventured.

Ollala smiled fondly at the silver animal as it bared its pointy teeth, causing some students to step back. "It's a Tasmanian Devil. They're native to the Australian state of the same name, and they are carnivorous, violent little things that make the most of opportunities presented to them."

She gave her audience an evil smile, revealing a hint of just why her patronus had fashioned itself on that particular animal.

"Impressive, Miss Zabini." Pucey commended, adding with a wry smile. "Once again, I have to wonder why the Sorting Hat chose Ravenclaw over Slytherin for you."

"My guess is the honesty, sir." She told him with a serious face. "Besides, the dungeons would do nothing for my complexion."

He laughed, and set the class onto the task of creating patronus', if not corporeal, then at least a fine, silvery mist of reasonable protection. They spent the remainder of the class sending their patronus' around the room, joined by the other select corporeal forms (Jem joined in once there were enough girls successfully casting the charm because he felt it would be less noticeable when the tiny owl appeared).

At lunch, Scorpius and Al (both first years, and both, surprisingly, sorted into Slytherin) came running up to the Ravenclaw table in search of Jem, jabbering about something or other and eventually dragging him away to have a look at whatever it was that they'd found – or needed an answer to. So Ollala and Jasper made their way back to the Ravenclaw tower, waiting for him to return.

They usually met in Jem's room because it was easy and quiet, and Jasper was allowed into the dorm without a fuss (Jem was of the opinion that the castle considered him an honorary Ravenclaw because he spent so much time there). The discussion turned to nymphs, as it often did, because it was a curious subject, and the twins enjoyed hearing the thoughts of others on the whole concept.

"So, you don't date because, ultimately, you'll find your mate when you inherit your powers?" Jasper repeated after one particularly melancholy admission by the dark haired girl sitting cross legged on the bed. She nodded. "Lame. But why not just have some fun?"

Ollala gave a bitter laugh. "Oh, yeah, that's great: 'hi, you're cute, I like you, but eventually I'm leaving for some random who I probably don't even know, because we're destined to be, sorry'. I'm sure loads of guys would froth over that."

"I wouldn't mind." Jasper said shyly, looking down at his feet from his spot beside her. "There's two years until you get your inheritance, and who knows, really, what'll happen then?"

Ollala blushed, and glanced up. Jasper's eyes were earnest and bright, and she suddenly felt warm. Inching slowly forward, Jasper heard the small intake of breath, but the girl didn't pull away so he let his lips press against hers gently, coaxingly, and she all but melted into him, uncrossing her legs in a subconscious effort to get closer to the Gryffindor.

The Ravenclaw in her all but shut itself off, as if it were a flame doused in water, and she let her senses take over; his lips, his hands, her fingers in his wavy hair were all she was aware of as he kissed her.

Her first kiss. Definitely not his first – she knew all about his past experiences – but it didn't matter because it was better than good…but then she heard the tell tale thump of Jem's feet on the stairs and pulled away sharply. Her first reaction was to panic, and then, in a split second, she had recovered her senses.

_Jem, I left my bag in the commons, can you grab it for me?_

The stomps paused.

_Sure. The things I do for you._

"Jem's back." She told Jasper, fixing her hair and blouse (how did it end up so crooked, and where was her tie?). Jasper handed her the disappearing tie, picking it up off the ground, and then tried to get his hair back to normal.

"When you said 'fun', is that all it is?" Ollala asked quickly. He stopped short.

"Well, sort of." He floundered, looking for a proper way of answering. "I mean, I'll probably always love you – we've known each too long and too well not to – but hey, maybe we should live in the moment. For all you know I could be your mate anyway, and if not then we'll have had a good time."

He smiled and cocked his head to the side in a one shouldered shrug.

Ollala fidgeted, thinking it over.

"Alright. But on three conditions; no sex, Jem doesn't find out, and you can't fall in love with me unless you're my mate."

"Okay, definitely, and that's probably impossible but I'll agree for your sake." Jasper replied, drawing a cross over his heart, grinning. Then he stole a quick kiss, just as Jem's stomping feet announced the twin's arrival, and darted around her to sprawl on one of the other beds. "And if I do break that last one, I'll just have to drown my sorrows with other girls."

He winked.

OoO

_2015: Seventh Year_

"You have got to be kidding me." Ollala hissed, swinging her body around the corner and pushing her body against the smooth wall as she tried to hide from the masculine figure that was casually strolling along the Parisian street.

She and Jem had come into their powers almost two months earlier, and since then it had been a bit of a rollercoaster because neither twin had found their mate at Hogwarts (unlike their mother and uncle, who seemed to have been blessed by their mutual association with Harry Potter) and it had been giving them mood swings and mild migraines.

Pansy and Draco, Ollala's godparents, had decided to take her to Paris for the weekend – Pansy had argued her way quite successfully, and not without certain vehemence, into taking the girl to see the fashion shows as a belated birthday present.Initially, Ollala had been all for it and enjoying herself immensely. But then, she been on her way back to the hotel with Pansy and who might she see heading towards them but Nicodemus Davies, stalking down the pretty rue behind a rather rat-faced woman that spoke in a nasally, self-assured voice and looked as if the world had offended her in some way. And she kept clicking her fingers to get Davies' attention, making him write down her thoughts (well, at least he wasn't dating her, Yala thought optimistically).

This impromptu almost-meeting was precisely why Ollala was hiding, having tugged Pansy behind her in a moment's panic. Actually, the panic was mostly because the first reaction hadn't been anything remotely normal for catching a glimpse of a former housemate on the streets of Paris; she'd paused and felt a burst of happiness and then, of all the things she could have felt, a shocking sensation of lust (at which point she'd panicked completely, because, really, the only thing that could mean was that Nicodemus Davies was her mate, and she'd spent her whole school life with him in a battle of wits and snarky commentaries, so it was just too weird to contemplate spending the rest of her life with him. Heck, he could totally reject her. That was why she'd freaked out).

"What are you doing?" Pansy exclaimed, half annoyed-half amused at the quick escape. Ollala rested the back of her head against the wall, watching as the former Ravenclaw passed them.

"Old housemate." She offered by way of explanation, letting out a breath of air.

"I don't think so." Pansy argued, raising an eyebrow. "I think it's something else – old boyfriend maybe?"

Ollala snorted. "Hardly."

Pansy tapped her chin thoughtfully, narrowing her eyes before suddenly letting them fly wide open in realisation.

"He's your mate!" She gasped, grabbing Ollala's shoulders. "Why are you hiding? Go and talk to him, he looked miserable with that woman!"

Ollala fought her way out of Pansy's clutches, shaking her head.

"No! I can't; it can't be him!" The younger girl whined, holding her face in her hands as she began to hyperventilate. "I can't think, I need some earth or something, there's too much concrete."

Pansy knew about panic attacks, she'd witnessed many in friends and family, so she took control, slapping Yala's cheek once, not too viciously, and dragged her towards the parks near their hotel. When they got there, she pushed her goddaughter to the ground and took off her shoes, letting the earth touch bare skin.

It worked like a charm, and in seconds Ollala was calm once again (if breathing rather heavily).

"Out of all the people in the world, it had to be Nicodemus Davies, didn't it?" She huffed.

And then, just to prove that the universe was set against her, a man's voice called out.

"Zabini?"

She groaned and fell backwards, lying on the ground and gazing up at her mate resignedly.

"Davies. How are you?" She enquired politely, trying not to breathe in his musky scent.

"Good, good. How's Hogwarts this year?" He asked with a grin, watching as she heaved herself to her feet reluctantly.

"Not nearly as fun without you there." She replied, before covering her mouth in embarrassment. Nicodemus laughed, eyes bright, and she felt something flutter in her stomach.

"Well, that's flattering. I thought you'd have thrown a party celebrating my absence – no Quidditch stats, no philandering cat." He smirked. "But I'm being rude; who is your friend?" He said, turning to look at Pansy (who was trying to keep a hopeful and excited expression off her face at this fortuitous second encounter).

"Pansy Parkinson," she answered primly. "Yala's godmother. It's nice to meet you. We were just going to go for a _chocolat chaud_, would you care to join us?"

Pansy ignored the glare that Yala sent her from behind her mate. She also ignored the miming and the silent fuming. At the end of the day, Yala would have her mate – Pansy was sure of it, and she was damn well going to make sure she was right.

oOoOoO

When the Malfoys and Yala returned home to England, it was with good news and buoyant spirits. Ollala ran off to find her brother, Jasper and Harry, all of whom were playing some crude one on one scrimmage game of Quidditch out in the nearby fields.

She was barefoot, and her white dress already had a grass stain as she tore across the ground to greet them, dark curls streaming behind her.

"Couldn't wait to get dirty again?" Harry laughed, gesturing at her feet when she found them. She laughed and wiggled her toes against the earth.

"What can I say? There isn't enough living earth there – just concrete and beautiful dresses." She smiled, but turned serious immediately. "I found him, though – my mate – in Paris."

Jasper looked crushed, but managed a weak smile and Ollala looked at him sadly. They'd had a lot of fun together, but now it had to stop, like she'd always known it would. It looked like he'd broken his promise to her as well, judging by the look in his eyes.

She broke away from his gaze as Jem hugged her tightly, then Harry, and Jasper joined in calling out 'group hug' in his usual jovial tone. When they parted, chuckling, he asked her quietly, "Who is it?"

"Nicodemus Davies." She replied quietly, not meeting his eyes. He knew how much they'd annoyed each during school, fighting and arguing and being nuisances in the Common Room for no reason but to frustrate the other. "We made plans to catch up."

"Figures." Jasper said, but smiled with a hint of finality, and that was that.

The next time her spoke with her after that day was to ask what she thought of Tilly Andrews, and whether he should have a crack at wooing her. Yala had laughed and said if anyone could deal with him then Tilly could, so why not.

Jem didn't find his mate until they were at Kings Cross, getting ready to walk through to the platform and go back to school. He'd paused, and then turned to his mother, a desperate look in his eyes.

"She's here."

He dragged Hermione through the throng of people until he found a girl a little older than they were, with enormous blue eyes and blonde hair. She was rather average looking, not someone to be noticed under normal circumstances, but she was Jem's mate and when they'd finally managed to shove him onto the train, Hermione and Blaise had slyly trailed the girl home, found out her name and prepared themselves to face all the challenges that would await them when school was let out.

And both Blaise and Hermione were certain that there'd be challenges because the girl was a muggle, and not only were they going to have to explain that Jem was destined to be with her, but that Jem wasn't completely human and, even then, he was also a wizard and there was a whole world out there that was veiled in secrecy and hidden from people like her. What a great opening line that was going to be.

**End.**

**Constructive Criticisms welcome (because you know how it gets when you've read and re-read something a bajillion times – you can't keep it objective). Read & Review like a Responsible Reader. Please. **

**I hope this is decent.**


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